All I Can Do Is Write About It (In Sam's POV)
by SJSharkByte
Summary: You know the series well enough by now. This time, though, you get to relive the Winchesters' supernatural journey through Sam's perspective, with every emotion he's ever had. This is Supernatural, a fan fic diary through the eyes of Sam Winchester.


**All I Can Do Is Write about It**

_In Sam's POV_

**Chapter 1 – Our First Hunt (In a While)**

**Oct. 31, 2005**

It's Friday night and I'd just gotten back home to our apartment from this Halloween party Jess and I went to at a bar with a friend named Luis. Heh, I guess it wasn't as bad as I thought it would be. We were just celebrating my LSAT score and how great it was. No big deal. But I also have this law school interview that I need to go to this coming Monday. That's basically my whole future on a plate. I'm excited for this opportunity. More importantly, I have Jess backing me up on this. God, I love her so much. Honestly, what would I do without her?

**Nov. 1, 2005**

So, Dean showed up tonight by breaking into my apartment. I swear if I hadn't known any better, he'd be out cold by now and not driving us to Jericho. I'll get to that part in a bit. Apparently Dad's missing and he wants me to go with him to find him. I've tried so many times to explain to him that I was done with hunting for good, but he just wouldn't listen! He wanted to find Dad badly, and so I kind of gave in and asked him what Dad was hunting. 'Turns out there's this missing persons' case that Dad was working in Jericho, and a string of reports before that.

That's why we're headed there. And Hell, if that's where we're going to find Dad, fine. It's just… it all just feels so sudden. I hadn't seen Dean in forever since I'd left him and Dad for Stanford. And then he shows up out of nowhere without a "hey" or "hello"? I don't know. It just feels kind of weird too, though. Maybe this ought to be a fresh start for the both of us, a reconnecting. One thing's for sure. Being back on the road, just for the weekend, it actually feels good.

**Nov. 1, 2005 (cont.)**

We'd finally arrived here in Jericho. There were cops up ahead on a bridge. Looked like a crime scene. Of course, we couldn't just walk up as regular individuals. No. We had fake badges. Impersonating an officer's dirty work, but whatever gets us the information we need and brings closer to finding Dad.

Afterwards, we went to interview a young woman named Amy, the girlfriend of the latest victim, and her friend Rachel. Rachel told us about a local legend of what sounded like an angry spirit kidnapping drivers who pick 'it' up. So, Dean and I went to the local library to do some research and found an article dating back to 1981 about a woman named Constance Welch who'd committed suicide by jumping off Sylvania Bridge.

Later that night, we went back to the bridge to go check it out. While we were waiting for Constance to show up, things got sour between me and my brother. I'd never asked to go on this trip with him, so I reminded him again about my law school interview that was coming up on Monday. All I wanted to do was help find Dad, but Dean was taking it to a whole new level. I was never going to be like him at all, and he wanted me to just abandon my own future? Screw that!

The way we started fighting, I thought maybe Dean was going to hit me, but we were interrupted by Constance's spirit stepping off the bridge and into the river below. Then after that, things went south again. Dean's Impala drove itself towards us about to run us over and at least for the moment we've lost her spirit. Guess we'll just have to keep digging.

**Nov. 2, 2005**

We were about to check in at a motel. Dean was using one of his fake credit cards he and Dad applied for. I swear, if we ever get caught doing this, my whole career's over. The clerk stopped to tell us that a guy by the name of Burt Aframian had checked in before us. We immediately knew it was Dad. So we walked toward Dad's room and _man_ did it ever look full. There were pieces of paper tacked on every wall. Every bit of information from various news articles, missing persons, I mean… you name it. It was all on them.

It didn't take us long to find the Centennial Highway victims. The problem was we couldn't think of a logical connection between them. There's always something, a specific target in the victims. There was nothing here. Good news, though, was that I saw the same article on Constance Welch's suicide that Dean and I had read up on the Internet earlier tacked on a wall. Dad had already figured it out, everything about her being a vengeful spirit, a Woman in White. So, Dean and I figured all we had to do was see if Constance's husband, Joseph Welch, was still alive to tell us where she's buried.

**Nov. 2, 2005**

The case has been solved. Dean found coordinates in Dad's journal and on the drive back home I figured out where the Mysterious John Winchester might be headed. I still don't understand why he'd run from a job, but it's not my job to figure that out. Dean's going to do that. He's going to find Dad alone. I've already helped him as much as I can, and plus, I've got that interview to make. But hey, I've got to admit. We made one hell of a team back there.

**Nov. 3, 2005**

Jess is dead. I can't believe it. I just… I can't. She was everything to me. This… this can't be happening, but it is… because I failed to protect her. I could have done anything and everything I could have done to save her, but now she's dead because of me. Because of everything I hadn't told her. Now, it's personal. I've got to find whatever killed her.

**Nov. 8, 2005**

I haven't been able to stop thinking about her and the tremendous guilt that I feel. I haven't been able to sleep or eat. I'd gotten a lot of phone calls from my friends sending their condolences from Stanford. As always, they were great and incredibly understanding. Of course, Dean has been the most helpful and encouraging to me. He's been trying to get everything off my mind, whether it'd be having a few beers or whatever. He may be a dick sometimes, but he's still family. He's really all I've got now.

Jess…

I'm so sorry, baby.


End file.
